Abstract Benzene Meltdown
by HeartPiper
Summary: Marina deals with idiot chemist parents, controlling classmates, and intensifying insanity. Allen has four brothers, a misplaced sense of justice, and feels powerless to stop evil. When they meet, they must find out what is truth, what is an illusion, and prevent a disastrous accident that could destroy the lives of those they care about. Unless they realize they don't care at all?


Abstract Nonsense by Rin Kagamine

**A/N~Wow. Didn't realize how depressing I can get. Anyway, it's not supposed to have perfect grammar because it's supposed to be a loose translation of the girl's thoughts. Her name's Marina, because in the song Rin is an entirely different person. Marina hates Vocaloid because she kinda blames it for indirectly ruining her life. Personally, I love Vocaloid. Just an explanation before you get mad. Okay, enjoy!**

**By the way, the lyrics are in bold.**

* * *

**This is useless, I want it to stop.**

My grades didn't make it.

**Make me repeat a year of my life.**

Everyone is going to leave this math class, but I'm going to stay.

**Rounding up to the nearest half.**

Everyone knows it. I'm the only one who's failed.

**Opening my ears, I hear their talk**. Talking about some electronic singer, Rin or something. Don't they know **that girl is really just a monochrome puppet?**

They see me and point.

**Ah, put a price tag on me.**

"No one wears those shoes. They're worthless."

"What kind of hairtie is that?"

**Make me repeat a year of my life.**

"She's so stupid, she'll never graduate."

**This is useless, I want to stop.**

The bell's ringing, but I hang my head out the window. How far away is the ground? Would it hurt?

**This is boring, I'm tired of it, but I don't have the courage to die.**

My hands hang loosely. "Die?"

I roll the word on my tongue. What is dying? What is death? I put these thoughts away. Meaningless, nothing I think has any meaning. Nothing I say has any meaning.

… On my way home from school, I pass by the electronic store. They're still talking about that girl, the Vocaloid. **That girl is also a media monkey.**

Her shrill voice cuts into my ears, damaging them more than any knife could. I hate the stupid TV, the media industry that recruits talentless, tasteless singers and wraps them in pretty plastic cases.

The idol appears on the screen. The song sounds bubbly and happy, the arms held enticingly forward. **Ah, come here too. **But I can see the corporate shadows behind her, watching her, watching me, willing for me to be trapped in that embrace, in their wallets.

I want to kill her. She represents everything I hate. Those stupid girls in class love her, everything they think is based on what this fake pop star advertises. I don't have her shoes, or her hair, or anything that she has. So I hate her. So they hate me. So I hate them. So I hate me.

… The needle slides into my wrist. Its metal tip fills me with insane glee.

But then I feel the pain and I pull it away. Just a fork. I stabbed myself with a fork and now I have four tiny red pinpricks to show for it. Ashamed, I grab some cake.

"Is something wrong, Marina?" Dad asks. I stare at him without answering. **He and everyone else is hanging, their screws are never tight enough. **Is he an idiot? How does he not see my anger?

"Nothing's wrong."

…

In my room. I snuck a knife from the kitchen. I don't know what I'm going to do with it, but I'm staring at it in the palm of my hand. I spin the edge to my chest and hold it there.

**This is boring, I'm tired of it-**

The little point is cold, and the giddiness surges again. I swing it up- and stab the stuffed animal next to me.

The giddiness recedes, washing away everything.

-**But I'm not prepared to suffer.**

…

In the shower. The knife is on the vanity. I realize I'm holding my breath, but I don't breathe in.

**-Even as my head is soaked-**

I keep my head under the stream of water until my head is swarming. I open my mouth against my will, my lungs fill me with air, even though I'm protesting-

**But I'm only thinking that.**

I'm forced to sit down. The water hasn't ceased. It still wouldn't have, I realize, even if I'd stopped breathing right here, the water would still flood and the earth would still spin. Nothing would stop for me, nothing would mourn me but my parents and other worthless people, and even they would move on.

**Ah, crawling like a beggar**

I still haven't gotten up. I'm dazed. I wonder if I'm dying, if I died when I started holding my breath.

I stand, get dressed. There's still fog on the mirror. I draw a question mark. _Empty. Shallow. _What's a question mark stand for? What does it mean? By itself, it's no more meaningful than my own life. Even when I'm dying I'm worthless.

…

Next day. Waiting for school to start, I got here before the gates are even open. Those girls aren't here yet, but the bus they ride is pulling in. I choke. I can't look at them again, or I'll surely die.

**This is useless, I want to stop**

I'd rather face the street than see them.

**I fly out onto the highway**

There's a lump on the other side, but I don't look at it.

**This is boring, I'm tired of it**

I see red trailing after it. Wait, is that a…

**I'll stop halfway**

Oh god,thereswhite noisenothingbutnoise that cat is me I'vekilleditbyseeingitdeadbyth esideoftheroadandohgodohgodt hat's ME!

…

I don't know how I lived through today, a shell, horrified by the illusion- me! – the cat was me, oh God it was me, all I could see was myself curled and bloody and broken and worthless, nothing but rotten bird food!

**This is useless, I want to stop, I hold a gun to my head**

I fire and nothing happens and I'm horrified- the gun didn't work? Why won't it- BAM!

**This is boring, I want to stop**

I see I've broken my pencil and I was never holding a gun, just had a textbook and some math homework, all of it was is my head and none of it was real.

**But that's only a delusion **

I want it to be real! I want to be the cat on the road because I know that's all I'm meant to be no aspirations for the future or anything to worry about and no more people to deal with just silent death. I'm curled like the cat on the floor and I'm waiting for death to take me, or sleep, or darkness, or anything! **But I want to cry, this is painful, and I have no one to cling to- This** **voice is foolish, I want to ignore it**

I'm so foolish, there is no gun, there was no needle, there wasn't even a knife, just imagination and foolish nothings of a worthless soul- no, soul's too poetic for garbage like me- it's silly for garbage to even talk, or have feelings, and to even be thinking about killing myself is so ridiculous that no one would believe it if it happened!

**In the end I'm nothing but normal trash**

Yes, they'd laugh themselves to death, so foolish it would be if I died, they would only feel pleased with themselves, and I would die in vain, literally- my vanity would show through, "She was always such a drama queen" they'd say, they wouldn't even miss me-

My homework calls and I finish with a rotten grapefruit in my stomach. My mind is more poetic than such a wretch deserves.

**It will surely rain tomorrow.**


End file.
